


Warmth Before the Thaw

by Muccamukk



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Bastogne, Bathing/Washing, Canon Era, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Haguenau, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Mourmelon-le-Grand, POV Alternating, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk
Summary: Nix wakes up early enough to catch Dick giving himself a sponge bath outside his CP in Bastogne. Their eyes meet, and from there it's a tumble of hurried touches and moments stolen from the war.





	Warmth Before the Thaw

**Author's Note:**

> The thing I'm saddest about them leaving out of the show: "and once in a while I would strip to the waist and give myself a “French wash”" — Dick Winters in _Beyond Band of Brothers_.
> 
> For kuns, whe pointed out that Nix's beard was hot. She was right.

The worst part was that Lew was not hungover. He'd finished the last whiskey he'd been able to find in Bastogne, and it hadn't done more than take the edge off. Or one of the edges. This damned place had more edges than Lew would've imagined possible, and he'd survived Normandy and Holland. Even the sweet torture of sleeping shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip with Dick Winters in a five by five hole in the ground couldn't sand very much of this smooth.

Now his head ached, and his mouth felt dry and his hands shaky. Lew clenched his fists against his chest and held his arms tightly crossed until he got a hold of himself. He could fall apart later. He cracked an eye open, and from the faint light trickling under the edges of the tarpaulin over his foxhole guessed it was day, but only just. Though with the shit weather they'd had, it could well be high noon. Lew stared at his watch until it came into focus and showed half past eight.

"Christ," Lew muttered. Barely dawn. He was freezing even in the foxhole, but he had to piss, so he wiggled out of his sleeping bag, and floundered at the tarp until he got the edge pushed back. The glare on the snow made him squint against watering eyes, and he blinked hard a couple of times, but what he saw didn't change.

Dick Winters had stripped to his waist. His back was turned to Lew, and he had one arm raised over his head while he rubbed a wet cloth down it. He wasn't wearing a helmet, and his hair stood out like a dark flame against the icy ground. The sky had cleared, pale green-blue above trees capped with rose-tinted snow. The sun cleared the horizon, backlighting the whole CP in a shimmering halo of pink and gold. The intensity of colour after four days of fog and grey almost made Lew's heart stop. For an eye blink, it transformed Dick into the flushed and healthy image of a Renoir nude, coyly bathing while he knew the painter watched.

Then Lew shaded his eyes against the rising sun, and all he could see was his best friend, shivering as he tried to wash on a frozen December morning. The flush was from the cold, and his skin showed in white splotches under it. He was moving as swiftly and methodically as he could against he stiffening cold. He'd already shaved, but it didn't make him look any better. Dick turned when Lew flipped the tarp aside, and his expression was as pinched and hallow as it had been the night before, in the shared light a remaining candle.

"What in the name of God are you doing?" Nix demanded, crawling out of the foxhole. "Are you trying to freeze to death?"

"No," Dick answered, turning fully around. Lew made himself look at Dick's face, not the way his chest hair stood out bright against his pale skin. He was too thin for this cold, Lew thought. "No, just trying to get clean."

He was talking with his teeth clenched so they didn't chatter, Lew realised. He was trying to get this over with, for whatever reason, and Lew was slowing him down. "Want me to wash your back?" Lew asked.

Dick quirked a half smile at Lew and dipped the cloth back into the upturned helmet he was using as a basin. "Another time."

Lew should find a jeep and get into town for a status report from Sink, or check in with the company captains, or see if breakfast was on yet, or at all. Instead he stood like he'd turned to ice after all, and watched Dick finish bathing, watched how he moved in jerky strokes of the cloth across his skin, and how he had to keep his jaw clenched to keep from shaking from the cold. He watched the smooth pull of Dick's lean muscles under his skin, and the strength of his shoulders, even hunched against the cold as they were. The rising sun gleamed off his damp skin, and though it only showed off how pale and skinny he was, it had a certain stark beauty to it as well.

Neither of them said anything until Dick finally dropped the cloth in the helmet and started to pull his clothes back on. Lew's eyes finally slid past him to the CP where both Lipton and the kid acting as Dick's runner that day also stood caught in the tableaux. Lew ignored them.

"It cleared up," Lew said.

"Yup," Dick agreed. He had his undershirt over his head but half caught up on his damp skin, and was pulling on his uniform shirt over it. His hands were shaking so badly that he struggled with the buttons.

Lew couldn't stand it. He stepped in and began doing up Dick's shirt, starting at the bottom and working his way up the Dick's chest. The warmth Lew'd been holding onto by keeping his hands jammed under his armpits vanished the second they hit open air—vanished into Dick's skin, which was clammy and cold as the dead. Dick tugged his undershirt straight and their hands brushed. His eyes met Lew's. Lew felt the hairs on his neck rise in a way that had nothing to do with how he too was now shivering. There was a frankness in Dick's gaze that Lew hadn't seen before, like he knew what Lew was thinking, like he'd always known. Lew fastened the button over Dick's breastbone and stepped away.

"Think we'll get a supply drop?" Lew asked.

"If the Air Corps can get its act together." Dick pulled on his jacket and wrapped his scarf around his neck. His skin was still bright pink against the olive drab. He put his helmet on, and stood straighter. There stood Captain Winters, executive officer of Second Battalion of the 506th Parainfantry Regiment, and whatever had flashed between them in that level, grey-eyed look was gone.

"Well, we could use it," Lew said, knowing it was inane, but needing to keep talking. He still needed to piss. "I'm going to find a trench, then head into Bastogne. Back in an hour?"

"Little early for you, isn't it, Nix?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, well. I'm up now." Nix didn't have an answer. He'd probably slept for three hours tops. He smiled and felt his lips crack. "If I'd slept any longer I'd have missed the show."

Dick's lips parted, and Lew saw him almost tell him something, but then Dick just smiled ruefully and said, "Well, I've got to do something to keep the fellows attention, show them this place isn't getting to me."

Lew snorted. "You showed them something, all right."

"Weren't you going into town?" Dick couldn't be blushing, it wasn't physically possible in this cold, but Lew imagined that he would be if he could. Hell, they both would be.

"Yeah, yeah," Lew said, and stomped away through the snow, trying not to think about what he'd just seen, and what Dick had almost just said.  


* * *

"Do you know where my billet is?" Dick asked, then realised that no one in the room was likely to know.

Tab just shrugged and said, "You can sleep here with us, sir."

"I'm considering it," Dick told him. The sanctuary of the Rachamps abbey's chapel already had men sprawled out across it like fallen logs, some lying alongside each other, some in little piles. There weren't nearly enough men there, and just looking at what was left of Dick's old company made his heart ache. He rubbed his eyes and turned to find Nix hovering at his elbow. "Lew," he said heavily.

"Come on," Nix said, and took his elbow, drawing Dick out of the sanctuary and down the stone corridor. They had new flashlight batteries, so Nix didn't have to carry a candle. They had a lot of new supplies. They had a whole new Airborne Division relieving them. In a few days, they'd be back in Mourmelon-le-Grand, safe until the spring, like they'd been meant to be all along.

Dick's legs ached as Lew led him up to the second floor via a narrow stair. A flimsy wooden door separated what he could only think of as a cell from the hallway. It wasn't a heck of a lot bigger than his foxhole in the Bois Jacques had been, with a narrow cot along one wall, and a washstand in the corner under a shuttered window. Two barracks bags leaned on each other next to the washstand.

"We sharing?" Dick asked, eyeing the cot. He supposed he could give Lew the bed and sleep on the floor, but he didn't want to. Even a straw tick would feel like heaven after a solid month of sleeping in foxholes and snow banks.

"Sure." Lew wasn't looking at Dick, and there was more to the offer than there would have been for just a foxhole. They'd shared billets, tents and patches of dirt almost constantly for two and a half years, but they'd never shared a bed.

"Okay." Dick was too tired to work out what all this meant. He bent and yanked his boots off, then had to steady himself as he got up, a wave of dizziness overtaking him.

"You get any chow?" Lew asked.

"Some," Dick said. There'd been some kind of soup before the choir, but Dick hadn't gotten much, and then General Taylor had pulled all the Battalion commanders in for a meeting that had dragged on forever. Dick didn't bother stripping further—they'd all been sleeping in their ODs all month anyway—but just crawled between the threadbare cotton sheets and pulled the wool blanket up to his chin.

There wouldn't be room for them both to lie on their backs next to each other like there had been in a tent or a foxhole. Dick rolled on his side so that his back was pushed up against the freezing stone wall, and held the blankets up for Lew. Stretched to his full length, Dick's feet hung off the edge of the cot. The straw poked through the ticking and into his wrist.

Lew took off his jacket, belts and boots before scrambling into bed. He kept his back to Dick, which meant Dick didn't really know what to do with his arms. He kept them tucked against his chest, but that didn't stop Lew's ass from brushing Dick's stomach as Lew curled up to keep warm.

"They sure don't heat this place," Lew said. "Wonder what the nuns do on nights like this."

"I don't think they can afford coal," Dick told him, hoping the sisters hadn't been turned out of their beds by the army.

Lew shivered and wiggled back until he was pressed up against Dick. "Maybe they're sharing body heat."

"I think there's a vow or two about that."

"Think they keep them?" Nix asked. "There's a war on."

Dick hesitated. This turn of conversation put them well off the map of behaviour acceptable between buddies and into waters labelled _here there be dragons_. Though now that he thought of it—which he'd been trying not to—they'd been sailing this way since that morning in the woods outside Bastogne. If not since that first morning roll call at Officer Candidate School when Dick had taken one long look at the man standing beside him and realised that he was potentially in a lot of trouble. He'd wondered, since then, if the way Nix's eyes had met his had meant what he wanted it to.

"Lew," he said, but he didn't have any follow up to that, so he unfolded his arms and slid one under the pillow while he looped the other over Nix's waist, laying his hand flat across Nix's stomach. Then he lay still and waited to see what Nix would make of that. Dick had, he thought, made his position pretty clear, as had Nix, before, but the risk of disaster remained. Reading about Greeks and talking in hypothetical terms with a couple of guys on his old wrestling team had shown Dick what was possible, but also shown him the danger that came with it. As tired as he was, Dick felt his heart pounding faster and wondered if Nix could feel it too.

"Yeah," Nix said, an acknowledgement and an answer both. He laced his fingers through Dick's—his hand still icy—and wiggled his ass against Dick's hips. "Yeah," Nix said again, his voice almost a sigh. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

Dick squeezed their fingers together and struggled against he sudden tightness in his throat. Fatigue leached through his skin and muscles to his very bones, and his ears were still ringing from standing too close to the 55MG during the assault on Rachamps. In the morning he'd be putting what remained of his men on trucks for the long journey back to the safety of quarters, and right now he felt a knot of emotions he couldn't pick apart past the fact that they brought tears to his eyes, and he didn't think he was grieving.

He wanted to tell Nix that he loved him, but even if he dared, he couldn't have spoken right then. Instead, Dick leaned in enough to bury his nose in Nix's hair and press the smallest of kisses onto the back of his neck, and then he slept.

* * *

"You ever find any soap?" Dick asked, rubbing his stubbled jaw.

"Yeah," Lew answered, "Yeah, I did."

They'd been on trucks for days, shuttling from one Alsace town to another until they'd landed here in Haguenau. Neither had had a second to himself. Dick especially as the battalion commander—in practice if not nominally—couldn't seem to go five minutes without someone needing him. Lew didn't think either of them had slept the night through since Rachamps, and even Dick Winters hadn't found time to shave in all that.

Dick raised an eyebrow in question, but Lew grinned at him instead of answering. "Come on," he said. "I'll show you."

"The soap?" Dick asked sceptically, but he followed Lew up the street away from the river. A shell landed two streets away, but neither of them did more than duck their heads. At this point, they either died or they didn't.

"The soap," Lew answered firmly, then didn't say anything else until they got to the old hotel Sink had taken over for HQ company and regimental staff.

It had been quite a grand place once, with its own spa and swimming pool in the basement, and Lew led the way into the changing rooms. When Dick was inside, Lew leaned back and threw the bolt the door behind them.

"All right," Dick asked, "what's this?"

He wasn't quite annoyed yet, but Lew figured he should stop being mysterious before he got clocked. "This is soap"—Lew held up a bar of U.S. Army issue white bar soap, new out of its package—"and these are hot showers." He waved the soap at the adjoining room. "With some creative procurement, we have them to ourselves for half an hour."

"Nix." Lew could see that Dick was trying to sound reproachful, though how a battalion XO had the right to tell off his regiment's operations officer when it came to use of resources, Lew didn't know. Anyway, even Dick Winters didn't have any fight in him on this one, not when he hadn't had more than a half wash in the woods since early December. They'd been fighting for close to two months now, and Lew didn't know how they could stand to be near each other, save they all smelled just as bad.

Dick took his helmet off and started stripping out of his scarf and jacket with commendable speed. Lew smiled in satisfaction and began to follow suit. Dick caught what he was doing, and hesitated for a second, pausing in the middle of unbuttoning the button just above his breastbone, but then his eyes met Lew's and he started moving again. In under two minutes, they were both naked, the first time for that in months as well.

Lew felt suddenly self-conscious. He'd showered with Dick a hundred times over the years, but this was the first since whatever tentative understanding they'd come to that night in Rachamps. This was the first time it'd had any chance of meaning what Lew wanted it to, even if they couldn't risk actually doing anything about it, locked door or not.

Dick padded through to the showers, and Lew watched him go before following himself. They'd all been getting through by just not thinking about it, but now that they had the chance to wash, Lew felt the layers of perspiration and grim clinging to his skin, the grease clogging his hair, the way everything he owned reeked. It had been bad after Normandy, but this was twice the time in combat, and in the winter too. Lew didn't know how any of them could stand it without wanting to claw their own skin off.

The shower clicked on, pulling Lew out of his thoughts, and Lew went through to find Dick standing under the hot water with his eyes closed and his face turned up. Even with his occasional sponge bath in the woods, the water was already running grey off his body. Dick wasn't soaping himself up, he wasn't even breathing. He just stood in the water, paralysed by the warmth. He didn't move until Lew turned on the shower next to his, and then he turned and looked at Lew with an expression that went beyond pleasure, beyond relief, beyond gratitude. Dick looked like an icon of a saint in rapture, except the gaze was directed at Lew, not the heavens.

That look felt better than all the hot showers in the world, and the water flowing over Lew's chest felt indescribably good.

"Wash your back?" Lew asked holding up the soap.

"Sure." Dick's expression shifted into a grin, and he turned away from Lew. He pushed his fingers through his hair, slicking it out of his face. "Need to cut this."

Lew shut off his shower, shivering in a room not quite steam-warmed, and stepped into the spray around Dick. "I guess I do too," he said. His hands hovered over Dick's back, unable to close the distance and actually touch.

"No," Dick said instantly, then chuckled, and ducked his own head back under the spray, flatting his hair back across his face. "I like your hair longer."

"Thanks," Lew said, not entirely sarcastically. The thought of Dick looking at Lew and liking what he saw was something Lew had been very carefully not considering, no matter how often he did the reverse. Lew wanted to wrap his arms around Dick's chest and pull their bodies together. Lew could run his hands all over Dick's chest, following the patterns the water made down and down until Dick was writhing in his arms, and the rapture on his face was from Lew's touch.

Instead, he swiped the bar of soap down Dick's spine and then in circling patterns back up. The water running off Dick's shoulders made tracks of clear skin through the dirt, washing the suds down over the curve of his ass to the backs of his thighs. Lew had to focus on scrubbing the soap over Dick's back, while Dick rubbed the washcloth up and down his arms, blackening it.

"Can you get my hair?" Dick asked, and tipped his head back before Lew could answer. Lew rubbed the soap through his hair, making it slippery, but it wouldn't suds. He massaged Dick's scalp with his fingertips, then scratched lightly at it as Dick sighed and leaned back into his touch, and the trust implied in that single gesture almost made Lew's heart stop. Water ran over both of them, swirling away months of dirt and care. After rinsing Dick's hair and trying again with the soap, it started to form bubbles and actually foam up like it should, finally cutting into the grease.

Lew attacked the ring of grime around Dick's collar next, and started working down from there with the cloth, while Dick took the soap and started washing his own chest. He cleaned between his legs while Lew was still scrubbing at the middle of his back, then bent to soap up his long legs. That pushed his ass back against Lew's cock, which was starting to respond to the whole situation, and for a moment they both froze in place.

"We can't," Lew said, voice choked, because Christ knew he wanted to. He could just slid in between Dick's wet, soapy thighs and thrust. He wouldn't last long. He could reach around and jerk Dick off while they both braced against the wall. He'd done this a dozen times in the dormitory showers at Yale, and only gotten caught at it once. That one time had been a hell of a row though, and Lew had been lucky it hadn't been worse.

"I know," Dick answered, and he turned sideways and shuffled away.

Lew nodded and stepped back to turn on his own shower again. They had to get a hold of themselves.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to," Dick said. He straightened and turned to face Lew, and his cock was harder than Lew's. Lew couldn't stop staring at how it stood out against the red curls of Dick's pubic hair, or the way it curved up, and water droplets glistened around its cut head like come. Knowing his touch had turned Dick on just made the whole thing worse, and the urge to kneel and suck Dick off even stronger. This had been a terrible idea. "Another time," Dick said, and Lew nodded again.

He turned his back to Dick then and focused on cleaning his own body. The hot water really did feel incredible, and when he scrubbed with the soapy cloth, Lew felt like a snake shedding his skin.

"Here," Dick said, and Lew felt swift smooth strokes of the soap sliding down his back as Dick washed it. Lew leaned back into his touch, then arched his back until it popped while Dick soaped his hair up. Dick's fingers carded through the strands and scratched at Lew's scalp, directing waves of soapy water down his back and over his ass to splash down between their bodies. It was doing absolutely nothing towards diminishing his hard on. They needed to slow down, but it was impossible to ask Dick to stop touching him.

Dick stepped in closer to wash Lew's neck and shoulders, and his cock brushed the base of Lew's spine. Lew heard both their breaths catch at once. They couldn't stop this, and trying was only making them want it more.

"Please," Lew said. He leaned against the wall spreading his arms wide to brace himself, and closed his legs tightly. It only occurred to him then that he didn't know if Dick had any experience at all in this regard—in fact Lew rather assumed he didn't—but Dick caught on easily enough. He stepped in so that his feet were on either side of Lew's, his spread legs making them the same height. His cock pushed between Lew's closed thighs. The water slicked the way enough to get where they were going, though it wasn't as smooth as Lew would like, and he wondered if his thighs would bruise. Have someone else's cock against his skin after all this time felt weird, almost unsettling. Dick took one of Lew's hips to steady both of them, then reached around and grabbed Lew's cock.

"Jesus Christ," Lew moaned and let his head drop and the hot water wash over both of them. Every thought of this not being the most perfect thing in the world left him the second Dick touched his cock. His hands were rough, and his grip a hair too tight, but the water smoothed the way, and Lew had wanted this for so long.

Dick pulled Lew off in three long, hard strokes while he thrust between Lew's legs. Lew was glad Dick was holding onto him, because his knees stopped working somewhere in the middle there, and he wanted to slump forward against the wall and curl up with Dick in the warmth of the water and the steam. Dick was still thrusting between Lew's thighs, but he came seconds later with Lew's name on his lips.

Their come mingled on the tiles before being washed down the drain. Dick wrapped his arms around Lew's stomach and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Lew could hear Dick breathing hard behind him, and felt dizzy from the speed of it all. Lew hadn't meant for this to happen, but now that they were here, he could see that nothing else would have been possible.

Dick stepped back; Lew turned, and for a moment they stood there looking at each other. Dick's lips were parted, and he was still breathing hard. Lew could feel the astonishment on his own face, that after all these years, they'd actually done it, and now they were started on something there could be no denying.

Or could there? Lew had certainly fucked or been fucked by enough jocks in shower stalls only to have them unable to look him in the eye in public, or worse.

But no, there was mistaking the way Dick was grinning at him now—lit up like a firecracker—nor the way he'd looked at Lew earlier, or held him in Rachamps.

"We should hurry," Dick said. "They'll be looking for us soon."

If they weren't already, Lew knew. They washed each other again, their slippery hands sliding over each other's bodies without the caution that had proceeded the sex.

Lew and Dick had had sex. Lew had no idea what to say about that. He couldn't stop touching Dick now that it was allowed. They were going to get in so much trouble if they didn't get a hold of themselves right now. Lew stepped away and gave his hair a last rinse before shutting off his shower.

The only problem was they couldn't help towelling each other off too, and if Dick didn't stop running his hands all over Lew's chest and arms, Lew was going to need Dick to jerk him off again. They were both flushed pink from the shower, and Lew didn't think he'd ever felt this clean. It was a shame to climb back into their grimy and torn uniforms, but Dick was right: they needed to get back out there.

"So, anyway, about that other time—" Lew started to say.

Dick shut him up by kissing him. It was their first kiss, and just an awkward poorly aimed thing that made their teeth bump, but after that Lew was grinning too hard to ask any more questions.

"Later," Dick said. "We'll have time later."

* * *

Dick dropped his barracks bag on his bunk and looked around. It didn't seem like it could possibly have been only two months before that he'd stood inside the officers' billets in Mourmelon-le-Grand. He even had the same room he'd been assigned before, promotion or no. Two months of blood and death, and half his friends on the casualty list, and here Dick was, standing in his service uniforms bright as a new penny, like none of it had ever happened. Dick tucked his garrison cap into his belt and ran his fingers through his hair. He still needed to cut it.

"Home again, home again," Nix said from behind him. Dick turned and smiled out of habit, even before he saw how Nix looked. They'd been on different ends of the organisational jumble of moving a regiment half way across France, and Dick hadn't seen him in a few days.

Nix was also wearing his service uniform, which had found them on that last day in Haguenau, the belt cinched in a bit more than last time Lew had worn it, but his ribbons gleaming and his collar crisp and clean. If it hadn't been for the loosened tie, the beard and the slouch, Nix would have looked almost soldierly.

Hell, it wasn't like the beard detracted from anything. With Nix's hair clean again and uncut for months, it was starting to curl around his ears. Combined with the dark beard, it gave him a wild look, like a frontiersman or a pirate who'd been stuffed into a uniform. Dick could only imagine how good Nix would look in his Class As.

Nix saw Dick staring, probably actually gaping, and rubbed his jaw and said ruefully, "I guess Sink'll expect me to shave."

"Oh," Dick said without enthusiasm. "Yeah, he will."

"I'll do it tomorrow," Nix said. "For now"--here he shut the door behind him, locked it, and dragged a chair over to jamb under the handle--"I've told Zielinski and Harry that you desperately need to sack out for at least ten hours, and that they're to put their lives on the line to keep anyone from disturbing you."

"Nix," Dick said, attempting to drum up censure, but mostly sounding tired. Heck with ten hours, Dick needed to sleep for ten days. He had a feeling Nix had something else in mind though, something he knew they'd both been thinking of since the shower. This was the first quiet moment with a locked door they'd had since.

Nix stepped away from the door, towards Dick, and the weight of the moment hung heavy over both of them. Dick didn't know what to do all of a sudden. Oh, he knew what to do on a technical level or at least he thought he did, but the idea of having Nix there, his if Dick wanted him, felt like one last overwhelming thing on an overwhelming day.

"Hey," Nix said softly and stepped into Dick's space. He wrapped his arms around Dick's shoulders, and Dick leaned against him so he could press his face against Nix's neck. He smelled nice, like cologne, though Dick had no idea where Nix'd gotten that, and like scotch and cigarettes and wool. Dick drew in a long inhalation and held onto Nix as tightly as he could. "We don't have to..." Nix started to say.

Dick shook his head, his forehead brushing against Nix's neck. "Hell we don't, Nix," he snapped. "Just give me a minute, will you?"

"Just a minute?" Nix asked teasingly, "because I'm going to be pretty disappointed if... oof."

Dick had hugged Nix hard enough to wind him, and he didn't want to ever let go. "I haven't done this before," he admitted.

"Shockingly, I have," Nix said, and Dick had to push down a surge of envy, not of Nix's experience, but of all those boys who'd got to touch Nix first. "Anyway, you figured it out pretty fast in the showers."

"Seemed like it was straightforward at the time." Dick blushed at the memory. He still didn't know what had gotten into him to take a risk like that, but the feeling of sliding between Nix's thighs had been incredible. He wanted to try it again. He wanted to try everything, but he couldn't think how to tell Nix that. "Do you, uh, do you want to..."

"Here," Nix said, stroking Dick's hair. "Why don't you just let me look after you, huh?"

"All right," Dick agreed. He should be more active, try to find out what Nix liked best and do that, but he was too damn tired, and the desire to lie back and be taken care of for just this once was too alluring. "I'll do anything you want."

"Jesus," Nix whispered. "You know what to say to a fellow."

Dick felt like Nix expected him to retract that, but he wouldn't. "I mean it. Anything."

Nix wiggled out of Dick's hold and stepped back so that he could take his jacket lapels in his hands and study Dick's face. His brown eyes were serious and hopeful. Dick wanted to kiss Nix stupid almost as much as he wanted to find out what would happen next if he didn't move. "Let me undress you?" Nix asked.

"Okay," Dick agreed. He stood like a doll while Nix unknotted his tie, trying to keep his breathing under control in the face of Nix's sudden intensity and his knuckles brushing Dick's throat as he worked. When Nix had the tie off, he peeled off jacket of Dick's service uniform, setting it aside with more care than he'd ever shown for his own clothes. His eye's didn't leave Dick's as he worked at the buttons of Dick's shirt, and his breath felt warm on Dick's cheek. They'd stood this close before to whisper secrets, but not to make love. Nix's breath smelled like scotch either way. Dick had wanted to kiss him then. He did now.

It was a matter of leaning in a few inches and tipping his head to make their second real kiss happen. This one was better. Nix's lips parted under Dick's mouth, and he made a small sigh of surprise at first, but that moment passed and a moment later Nix was kissing him back. His lips played skilfully over Dick's, and his hands didn't pause as they undid one button after another. His beard felt softer than Dick had expected, the curling hairs brushing against Dick's check rather than scratching like stubble.

Nix's tongue touched against Dick's lower lip, but only as a tease, or maybe it was a promise. He pulled away just after and kissed the corner of Dick's mouth than the side of his jaw—their cheeks brushing together—then his throat. Dick tipped his head back as he felt Nix's lips above his pulse and then on his Adam's apple—Nix's bearded chin brushing the hollow of Dick's throat, and making him swallow hard against Nix's lips.

Nix slid Dick's suspenders off as he kissed down his neck, but Dick hardly noticed, not until Nix's hand were touching his skin under his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to hang from where it was tucked into his waistband. Nix's hands ran down Dick's arms, moving slower than they had to, slower than Nix had moved in the shower. It was a long caress until his fingers trailed over the backs of Dick's hands and moved across to the edge of his undershirt. He pulled that free, and Dick raised his arms to let it slide off over his head. His shirt fell with a soft thud, and the undershirt followed a few seconds later.

When Dick dropped his hands, he reached over to circle Nix's hips. He wanted to touch warm bare skin, but Nix's uniform was in the way. Nix's hands were on Dick's chest, stroking in patterns following his body hair: first across his pectorals above his nipples, then down the centre of his chest towards his stomach. Nix's mouth worked down following from Dick's throat to his clavicle to his nipple. Dick couldn't look down, but he knew that his cock was already tenting the front of his pants.

"Want me to do something about that?" Nix asked, already in a half crouch, mouth resting at the bottom of Dick's ribs, his hands sliding under the waist of his pants to try to cup his ass. His beard tickled Dick's stomach as he talked, and Dick chuckled and held onto Nix's shoulders. "Well?" Lew prodded.

Dick licked his lips. He'd read enough and heard the guys' filthy talk enough times to work out the basic mechanics of it, but the idea of sitting on the edge of his bed, or leaning against a wall, while Nix knelt and sucked his cock sent stars across his vision, and he couldn't think it through. Even feeling Nix's hand on his cock, like Dick had jerked him off in the showers would be more than Dick had ever dreamed he could have. "Anything you want," he said.

"You got it," Lew told him, and pushed Dick towards the bunk. Dick walked back until his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he sat down all at once. Nix was already kneeling in front of him when Dick looked up, tugging at Dick's bootlaces. He had them off in moments and moved up to Dick's fly. A few seconds, and that was open too. Dick lifted his ass so that Nix could pull his pants and underwear off.

Dick sat on the edge of the bed, naked save for his dog tags, and held onto the mattress as Nix ran his palms up Dick's calves. His hands felt rough against the soft skin at the backs of Dick's knees, and his callouses caught and dragged at the hair along Dick's thighs. Dick spread his legs wider. His cock jutted up between them, but Nix was still ignoring it and running his hands up and down Dick's legs.

Finally, Nix leaned down and rubbed his beard against the inside of Dick's thigh, but stopped just before his lips touched the base of Dick's cock. He looked up at Dick, eyes crinkled in a suppressed grin. "I was going to get you started, but you beat me there."

"Uh, well, started for what?" Dick asked. He could feel Nix's breath on his cock, and thinking wasn't working out to be easy. His fingers dug into the edge of the mattress.

"Aw, hell, it's hard to decide," Nix muttered, glancing between Dick's face and his cock. "I want to see the way you look."

Dick imagined them thrusting their cocks together while Lew studied his face, and had to close his eyes for a second while he got a hold of himself. He opened them just in time to see Nix move forward, but didn't have time to brace himself before Nix's tongue ran up the length of his cock.

"Mmmm," Nix hummed, "decisions, decisions."

His hair was falling forward onto his forehead and Dick reached down and pushed it back, but that only made him want to touch more. Nix hadn't bothered with hair oil or pomade, and his clean hair was impossible to resist touching. Dick ran both his hands through it, tracing his nails across the skin like he had in the shower. Nix rolled his head under the touch and sighed.

"I can't wait," Nix said conclusively, but he contradicted that by standing up. He shoved Dick's chest until Dick fell backwards onto the bed. His shoulder hit his barracks bag, but he shoved it onto the floor. Dick rolled onto his side so that he could watch Nix strip. He hadn't taken time to do that in the shower, and hadn't dared before. Nix undressed quickly, tossing his uniform on top of Dick's—even the jacket, which shouldn't be left to crumble on the floor. Dick frowned at it, but couldn't look long, not with Nix's chest hair dark against his pale skin, nor the way it trailed down past his belly, nor how each button Nix undid on his fly revealed more. Nix jerked his pants and underwear down over his hips in one sharp motion, and his cock bounced after it was freed, as hard as Dick's was, even though Dick hadn't touched more than Nix's hair.

Dick resisted the urge to stroke himself, though he could have come then and there just from the view. Nix's cock stood out dark against the skin of his stomach and thighs, surrounded by darker curls that were darker still. Dick wanted to touch Nix there, to feel if the hair was like his beard, and to see what Nix would do if Dick's fingers outlined the shape of his balls. Nix bent to fish something out of his jacket pocket, and Dick watched the fold of his stomach against his thighs. He remembered what those thighs had felt like enclosing his cock. Would Nix want to do that again? They could lie together like they had in Rachamps, but Dick could rut against Nix until they came together.

Nix came up a moment later with a tin of something. It gleamed as he scooped some out and spread it over his fingers. He lifted one leg and braced it on the edge of the bed by Dick's knee, then without hesitating reached back and thrust his fingers into his ass. His lips parted as he pumped in and out of himself, and he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his upper lip, but Dick couldn't tell if it was because pleasure or pain. The guttural moan that escaped from Nix's throat didn't make it any more clear. Dick reached out and stroked Nix's calf soothingly, watching his expression to try to work out what it felt like to open yourself up like that. The image of Nix half crouching pumping down onto his own hand, face flushed and beginning to shine with perspiration only lasted a minute, though Dick knew that he'd see it every time he closed his eyes for days to come. Then Nix pulled his hand free, scooped another two fingers full of lube, and stroked swiftly up Dick's cock.

"Jesus," Dick moaned, then blushed at the blasphemy. He didn't have time to think of it though, not with Nix moving across the bed until he was crouched over Dick with his knees on either side of Dick's hips.

Nix braced his hands on Dick's shoulders and bent down to kiss him briefly. He grinned as he sat up again, his teeth flashing bright against his beard, and said, "I think you're going to like this."

"Oh yeah?" Dick asked. "I—"

He couldn't finish. Nix started to settle down onto Dick's cock, first just the tip pressing against Nix's asshole, but a moment later an incredible, almost painful pressure, and the head was inside of Nix. It felt a hundred times more intense than any time Dick had jerked himself off, even though he liked to do it hard and rough. Nix's face was screwed up in that same mix of pleasure and pain as before. Dick reached up and stroked his sides, wanting it to feel good for him. Wanting everything for Nix to feel good.

Nix's cock stood out between their bodies, and Dick remembered what it had felt like to stroke it in the shower. He'd had trouble thinking of anything else since then, the intensity of those few moments clung to him, their sensations burnt into his mind. Dick knew this would be too, and wanted to remember giving as well as taking pleasure, so he reached for Nix's cock.

"No. Hold on a sec," Nix grunted. "I just gotta..." He sank down a little more, the tightness of his ass still edging on painful for Dick. "Was in too damn much of a hurry," Nix muttered, "Just... There." His ass connected with Dick's thighs as he settled all the way down onto Dick's cock.

Dick stared up at him, holding onto Nix's forearms, hardly able to breath himself. The intensity of pleasure took his breath away, and he wanted to buck his hips up against Nix, but he also didn't want to hurt him. Dick held still and focused on Nix's face. It looked more relaxed now; perspiration was beading on his forehead and trickling into his beard; his teeth dug into his upper lip, but the lines of his face had eased, and Dick couldn't see any tension around his eyes any more. Nix's eyes were dark with desire in a way that Dick had never seen them, and he was watching Dick the same as Dick was watching him. "All right?" Dick asked, a little breathlessly.

"More than all right," Nix said. "Fan-fucking-tastic." He flexed his thighs and lifted a little, and Dick had to stifle a gasp at the change in pressure along his cock. He let go of Nix's arm to jam his fist into his mouth as a throaty cry tried to tear its way out. Nix lifted up more—leaning his weight on Dick's shoulders—and Dick tried to buck up to follow him. He was moving entirely on instinct, and his instincts were telling him that he wanted to be deep inside Nix, possibly forever. "Jesus, you feel good," Nix said as he lifted almost all the way off of Dick.

Nix's mouth made a round _O_ as he settled down again, and Dick would have closed his eyes against the sensations overwhelming him, but he didn't want to look away from Nix for a second. He wanted to memorise every expression that crossed Nix's face while they were joined like this. Only, when Nix settled back down against Dick's thighs, Dick's vision started to swim from how fast his heart was pounding. He couldn't seem to get enough air to keep up with what his lungs wanted.

"Okay, now," Nix said, but Dick didn't understand what he meant until Nix took Dick's hand away from his mouth and put it on Nix's cock. "Hard, like before," he said. "You know what I like."

"Yeah," Dick agreed with a flash of satisfaction. He knew what Nix liked. He could give Nix what he wanted and make him happy. The angle felt weird—pulling towards his body instead of away from it—but the look on Nix's face when Dick gripped the base of his cock and slowly drew his hand back towards himself made it worth the effort. Nix's mouth was still open, but now pulled back towards a smile in an expression of pure bliss. He gave his fingers to Dick to suck, and Dick rolled his tongue over them and tried to show Nix what it would be like if only Nix would let Dick suck him off. Dick had never tried that before, but he felt more than willing to learn. He wanted to know everything that would make Nix look happy like he did in this moment.

Nix started moving more quickly, rising up a few inches and dropping back down again. His ass smacked against Dick's thighs with each drop, a startling counterpoint to their harsh panting. At least with Nix's fingers in his mouth, he stopped moaning, and Nix was biting his lip again. Sweat dripped off his beard onto Dick's chest, and Nix tried to flip his hair out of his eyes, but just made it more of a curly mess. He looked wild, not like a pirate, but like Bacchus taking a human form solely to seduce Dick.

Dick sucked harder at Nix's fingers and dug his fingers into Nix's arm, desperately trying to draw this out for just a few moments more. The heat pooling in his gut and lust singing through his nerves told him this couldn't last long. He pulled again at Nix's cock, wanting then to come at the same moment, but Nix was closer than he was.

"Oh, God, Dick," Nix moaned, and shot across Dick's chest. His ass tightened as his body stiffened, and Dick's hips jerked up uncontrollably, almost tumbling Nix to the floor. Dick bit down on Nix's fingers hard enough to make Nix yelp and jerk his hand away but managed not to make a sound himself. The rush of completion surging through him made his vision fog red and the room fade out, leaving the image of Nix's face, slack with ecstasy the only thing he could see. Dick thought his heart stopped beating.

Then the world snapped back into place, and Nix tumbled forward across Dick's body and rolled onto the narrow slice of bed between Dick and the wall, sliding off of Dick's cock as he did. Nix rested his head on Dick's shoulder, and they both lay in silence for a few minutes while they caught their breath. Dick ran his fingers though Nix's damp hair and tried to remember how to put words together in a row.

Nix didn't bother. "Wow," he said, then paused to reflect, and said the same thing again.

"Yeah," Dick agreed. "Wow."

He felt like they should clean up, maybe find out if the showers were working yet, but moving seemed like too much damn work just then, even with the air cooling his sweaty skin. He still had Nix's come on his chest. Dick looked down, and found himself thoroughly debauched, but surprisingly didn't care. He didn't care if all this was a sin in some people's eyes. Dick didn't see how it could be, not when just lying here holding Nix made his chest warm with the purest love he'd ever felt. It was good that he couldn't talk in sentences yet, because if he could, he probably would have said all that to Nix, and Dick didn't want to risk putting too much pressure on him.

Nix was smoothing his thumb back and forth across Dick's hipbone. He tipped his head to kiss Dick's clavicle again, and his beard tickled Dick's armpit, making him snort and try to jerk away.

"All these years, I had no idea you were ticklish," Nix commented, and Dick could hear the laughter in his voice.

"Lot of things you don't know," Dick said. He lifted his head enough to kiss Nix's hair, tasting salt.

"Oh yeah?" Nix asked. "Then I guess I'm looking forward to figuring them all out."

"Well, you used to be the intelligence officer."

"I did," Nix agreed walking his fingers back down towards Dick's crotch. "Might be a little rusty, but I don't think I've completely lost my touch."

"Lewis, I don't think I have another round in me," Dick warned.

"Oh well," Nix pushed himself up so that he could crawl over Dick to his barracks bag. He fished until he found a handkerchief and poured water from his canteen onto it. He bent over Dick and wiped the perspiration from his face before cleaning the come off his chest and then finally wiping his cock. "You know," he said as his hands moved over Dick's body with immense care and intimacy, "My folks have a place in New York that has a bathtub bigger than this bed."

"Yeah?" Dick asked, trying to picture that and how much hot water it would take to fill something like that. Was it made of marble? Gold?

"Assuming they haven't sold it by now." Nix chucked the handkerchief into a corner, which Dick would have minded more if he wasn't so damn tired. "We should stay there when we get home."

"I'd like that," Dick said.

It was the first time since the night before they'd jumped into Normandy that Nix had talked about getting home at all, let alone talked about wanting Dick to be part of his life when he did.

"Stay here for a bit?" Dick asked. He squirmed around until he was under the covers, and then lay with his back to the wall like he had in Rachamps, hoping Nix would again want to curl up in Dick's arms.

"I shouldn't," Nix said, but he was already crawling into the bed with Dick. "Just for a few minutes."

Nix wiggled back until his back was flush against Dick's chest, and Dick put his arms around Nix. It really would have to just be a few minutes, Zielinski and Harry holding the fort or not, but Dick would take every second he could get. He kissed the back of Nix's neck, and Nix made a pleased noise.

"I like that," Nix murmured, apparently falling asleep despite what he'd just said. "I like you."

Dick laughed and tightened his arm around Nix's waist. "You do, huh?

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, I like you too," Dick told him, and held on until Nix fell asleep in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone's interested, Kuns and I put together a timeline of things that happened in the show and/or related to Winters and Nixon. It can be found [on Dreamwidth](https://muccamukk.dreamwidth.org/1252453.html).


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